Enter Sandman
by Lady Snape2
Summary: Hermione is taken from her parents home following an attack by Deatheaters. Ch. 4 now Up!, Was titled Enter the Sandman, re-titled it...Enter Sandman.
1. Default Chapter

**Enter the Sandman  
By Lady Snape**  


  


**disclaimer: I own nothing. The characters from Harry Potter and the universe from which they are derived belong to J.K. Rowling. I just am taking them out to play. The song "Enter the Sandman" is by Metallica.**

_Say your prayers little one don't forget,_

my son to include everyone, 

Enter the Sandman.Metallica 

Hermione sat at her desk, in her upstairs bedroom, methodically going over her curriculum for her 7th year. Using a muggle fountain pen, she ticked off the assignments that she had completed, noting that she still had Potions and Care of Magical Creatures left. Satisfied, that she had finished nearly all her summer work before the middle of the vacation, she capped her pen triumphantly before tossing the whole lot into her trunk. 

Stretching, Hermione heard her body make snap, crackle, and pop sounds, reminding her how late it was and how long she had been sitting immobile. Turning, she registered that everything magical definitely was put away. Her parents, accepting her developing powers, wanted to enjoy having her "play muggle" with them during the breaks. Which meant that she had to keep her magical identity under lock and key, so to speak, getting her studies done late at night. Pealing off her clothes, she tugged her night gown over her head, reveling in the feel of the light cotton material as it slid over her body. She was thankful that she owned more than one gown, thinking that her loose airy summer one was so much more befitting than its winter counterpart. 

Tonight, though, she felt a little unnerved. It had been raining steadily for the past few days, yet it seemed to have turned into a deluge of biblical proportions. Along with the rain came lightning that criss- crossed the cloud blackened sky only to be followed by foundation shaking thunder. Little known to her Gryffindor compatriots, or anyone else really, Hermione Granger was afraid of thunder storms. Her work had distracted her temporarily and now she was faced with actually trying to sleep. Glancing through her rain streaked window, Hermione caught sight of lightening as its fingers snaked across the sky like a mis-shapened clawed hand gripping the sky. Closing her eyes, she waited, counting "1.," when thunder hit causing her windows to shake. Grabbing her "Teddy," a battered stuffed bear from her childhood, she leapt onto her bed. Gathering her covers she called to Crookshanks, burrowing further under the covers as a succession of flashes erupted outside followed by reverberating roar of thunder. 

Hugging her "Teddy" close with Crookshanks curled on top of her feet, Hermione began to relax. Few things helped her to de-stress; studying, Crookshanks, her "Teddy" and lastly but not the least.her music. Any kind of music soothed her when she was feeling a bit anxious. 

Feeling slightly calmer underneath her blankets, Hermione began to drift off to sleep as she dimly noted the flash that illuminated her blanket took on a slightly green hue. Disregarding it as she heard the accompanying boom, she concluded it was just the distortion of the lightning through her blanket. Yawning Hermione rolled onto her side, turning away from the window when yet another flash, this time a deeper green lit up her coverings. Again a louder boom followed, yet this one was accompanied by another sound. Straining against sleep, Hermione tried to make out what the sound was, shrugging as she remembered the old willow tree that grew on the other side of her parent's house. Wind and rain make for noisy trees, mentally thanking the gods above that it was not a Whomping Willow. Stretching once again, Hermione tried to release the sense of foreboding she got with every thunderstorm, when her bedroom door blew off its hinges. 

Hermione became acutely awake. Remaining still, she dared not move as she tried to fight the ensuing panic that threatened to overtake her. Her wand was in her trunk. Her locked trunk. "Not that a simple 'alohomora' spell couldn't get past." Hermione silently grimaced as she remembered her parents wish for only muggle items to be in plain sight. Unable to really ponder that absurdity, Hermione felt a chill as the blanket slowly pulled away. 

"Ah, what have we here?" a voice hissed, "What do you make of 'it', friend?" 

"Looks to me to be nothing but a mudblood," intoned a deeper voice from somewhere by her window. 

Looking up, Hermione let out the breath that she had been holding as she peered up in the eyes of a masked Deatheater. Wide-eyed, she scooted back, trying to get away from the robed figure that loomed over her bed. Feeling the headboard of her bed against her back, she pulled her knees to her chest protectively as she let her eyes survey the two Deatheaters that were stationed on either side of her bed. Her analytical mind went into overdrive, barely suppressing her panic it allowed her to study her captors. Both were wearing oil black masks that shimmered as though they were made of a fluid like substance, flowing seamlessly into their robes, which fell to the floor completely encasing them like burial shrouds. 

The Deatheater by the window held his wand out, caressing its length casually as he watched his counterpart advance on the girl huddled on the bed. 

Not sure of what to expect, well pretty sure, Hermione watched her captors as the one nearest she leaned in closer while the other just stood apart and watched. Determined to be strong in the face of whatever atrocities they had planned for her, Hermione stared unwavering into the eyes of her attacker. 

Deatheater One, Hermione had mentally dubbed, reached out to her and lazily trailed his hand from her face. Slightly grazing her with his nails, he slowly followed the line of her neck, continuing to trace his fingertips along her collar bone. As his hand reached the top of her nightgown, Hermione could see the hint of a smile in the eyes of the Deatheater as he popped each button, sending it flying across her room. When his hand reached her knees, she felt him slide his hand between them, forcing her legs apart as he continued to, oddly, gently molest her. 

Unmistakably, Hermione flushed as her body betrayed her. The Deatheater chuckled, "Ah, the mudblood likes the touch of Dark.tis a pity.your parents did not share your unique tastes." Punctuating his words, the Deatheater pinched Hermione hard deep within her soft curls, eliciting a yelp of pain from her. Horrified, Hermione turned away in shame trying to cover her exposed breasts that still ached with arousal. 

The Deatheater laughed even more at his victim's distress. "Come now, Pet, won't you indulge us.we might allow you to live.then again, perhaps not." 

Hermione felt his wand then, pressed firmly between her shoulder blades. Filled with horror and shame at what she had just let happen, Hermione clamped her eyes shut shuddering with the loss of her parents, while she still could feel the ghostly reminder of his touch. Tears leaked out as Hermione unable to maintain even a shred of dignity, silently wished for the end. 

"Enough!" the voice boomed from across the room. 

"You have had your fun, brother, now I shall have mine." With those words, Hermione felt the arm of the Deatheater Two reach across her. Feeling slightly relieved as the pressure of the first Deatheater's wand was removed from her back, Hermione barely could breath as she waited for whatever this one intended to do to her. 

"Truly lovely, an untouched mudblood can be.absolutely delicious." Whispered the second Deatheater as he pulled Hermione up and sliding in behind her, cradling her in his lap. Snaking one arm around her, the Deatheater gently but firmly pulled her hand away from the tattered ruin of her gown letting it fall open once again. "Much better," he crooned as he entwined his fingers with hers, taking her hand with his as he cupped her heavy breast. 

Hermione's breath hitched at their combined touch, a breath that was echoed by Deatheater number one who stood watching in anticipation. The Deatheater that held her pressed his mask clad face into hers then, "That is what you like, isn't it, my sweet." he hissed in her ear as he used her hand to squeeze her milky white breast once more. 

Hermione unable to prevent what was happening found herself again feeling the hum of arousal as she turned her head away in shame. Not wanting to face her captor she tried to bury her face in her shoulder inhaling his musky herbal scented arm as she did so. She felt the rumble of his chest beneath her then, as his rich laughter echoed around her at her feeble attempts to hide. 

"Brother, I think I will take the mudblood home with me..I'm no longer in the mood to indulge your voyeuristic ways." The Deatheater that was holding her clipped as he tightened his grip on her with one hand while using the other to point his wand indolently at his partner. "Seeing as you only want to kill her.I think I will first enjoy this ripe young thing alone.then perhaps, I will dispose of her at my leisure." 

If possible, more fear gripped Hermione as she felt her world disappear from around her. In the blink of an eye, Hermione found herself upright, still held tightly against the chest of the faceless Deatheater in a wooded clearing. The sky was clear of storm clouds and only the shimmer of uncountable stars hung overhead in a moonless sky. Shaking from both the cool night air and lingering fear, Hermione made the split second decision to make one last ditched effort to regain some of her lost dignity. Reaching above her head, she tried to grasp the mask of her pursuer as she struggled to free herself, hoping to distract him by revealing who he was. 

"Put your hand down, you silly girl.!" An all too familiar voice harshly reprimanded her.  
  
  
**A/N: I'm not sure if this considered a song fic, but it was inspired by the song "Enter the Sandman" by Metallica. I will most likely put a verse from that song at the beginning of each chapter. If so inclined, please leave a review, as I am unsure whether I should continue with this. Thanks in advance..;) **


	2. Epiphany

**Epiphany  
By Lady Snape**  


  


_Tuck you in, warm within  
keep you free from sin  
till the sandman he comes  
Enter Sandman...Metallica_

Hermione flinched. The voice had changed like night into day. She knew this voice...but could it be? "Professor Snape?" uttered a confused Hermione as she pulled away now that he no longer held her and peered up into the fathomless pits where his eyes were supposed to be. 

"Yes, Miss Granger, and you better thank whatever god you deem, that it was I with Malfoy tonight and not one of the lower Deatheaters." Professor Snape quipped as he turned, his DE robes flowing about him in fluid like motion. 

Watching him walk away, Hermione hesitated briefly when she realized per usual he expected her to follow him. Gathering the flaps of her open nightgown she belated yanked them shut, further crossing her arms in front of her, in a feeble gesture of modesty as she carefully followed her Potions professor through the woods. 

Eyes opened wide, Hermione took in her surroundings, noting the knarled tree trunks that twisted skyward with roots bigger than her own body that overlapped in an endless web of bark forming natural barriers capturing the debris from the surrounding forest. Hermione tried to dispel the feeling that she was being watched as she wrapped her arms more protectively across her body. Inspecting woods around her had cost her time as she noticed that she was losing ground between her and her professor. Not wanting to be left behind, Hermione ran to catch up but tripped on a tree root causing her to go down with a shriek. 

In a flash Snape was at her side, "Foolish girl," he uttered as he helped her to her feet. This time taking her arm in his grip, he pulled her along with him. Not bothering to slow his naturally quick gait, he nearly dragged her over the bracken strewn forest floor. Hermione looked up at her professor as she was dragged alongside him, consumed with shame over what had precipitated her current situation. She had allowed herself to be taken away by a Deatheater without a fight, nevermind that he was her teacher. _Some Gryffindor you are, Granger_ she thought, _ E gads, mum....da..._ with horrifying clarity Hermione felt her heart constrict as though held in a vice. The words of the other Deatheater...Malfoy...rang in her mind... _Ah, the mudblood likes the touch of Dark...tis a pity...your parents did not share your unique tastes._ Flashes of green tinged light, light that she had thought was from the storm, lit through her mind. Feeling sick, Hermione realized what that light truly was...avada kedavra. _Dead,_ her mind screamed, _their dead....mum...da...Why!!! Why did this have to happen?!! What am I going to do now...now that your dead?_

Unbidden, Hermione started to gag doubling over with such a force she pulled her professor down with her as the remnants of her partially digested shepherd pie flew from her mouth. Falling to her knees, she continued to empty her stomach of its contents until her throat burned from the passing of bilious fluids. Sitting hunched over herself, her hair which had become a mass of tangles now coated with vomit, hung down her face...obscuring her view of her teacher. Hermione tried to control the dry heaves that continued to plague her when the tears erupted. Howling in despair, she mentally berated herself for betraying her parents at the lingering memory of what Malfoy's touch had induced in her. Rocking back and forth, Hermione was lost to her grief, unaware of Professor Snape who was now settling himself for what looked to be a long wait. 

Severus Snape, former Deatheater...current turncoat and spy for the side of supposed good, sat appalled at the sight of his sniveling student in front of him. He had worked hard to reach a point in his life where the atrocities that he bears witness to, almost daily, had little if any affect on him. He'd be damned if he would start now. 

_Introspection, a nasty thing that was,_ Severus thought to himself as he observed the grieving girl in front of him. _It almost always had Guilt follow in its wake, leading him blindly into Remorse...these were emotions that I can ill afford._ He sneered at his mental ramblings as he took out his wand to clear the crusting vomit from his clothes. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

He had had to go tonight, not that choice was ever in the mix, when he was called there was nothing for it but to come, and come he did. Facing Voldemort, he moved as if in autopilot, going through the motions as he mentally catalogued his surroundings and who was there while he fawned over the dark lord. Barely paying mind to what he was saying, listening to every other word, merely tuning in when he spoke of anything new or unusual in order to report whatever he could when he returned to Dumbledore. 

Tonight an excursion was planned, to convey a message as it were, to one of his students. He had many students, many that you could barely label them as such, dunderheads that they were....the lot of them. Yet every so many years a bright and intelligent specimen found their way into his classroom. Such students never failed to get not only the attention of those around them that want to see them succeed, for them they strive to do their best, but also these students lay claim unknowingly to the attentions of those who'd rather see them go down in flames without a second thought. So it was with a hardened heart that he found himself agreeing to go 'deliver' a message to the Granger family with only a modicum of hope at reducing whatever deprave antics his 'brother' had planned. 

Apparating to their house, Severus silently followed Malfoy as he breached the simple muggle security defences, gaining him access to their inner sanctum. Entering, they had found no one...at first. He watched Malfoy strut around as though he were a habitual guest of the Grangers, the arrogant bastard. They moved through the lower floor silently, knowing that any slight sound that they did make would be covered up by the raging storm outside. Voldemort always was one for the dramatic, issuing missions to be carried under the cover of darkness...stormy nights were his favorite...lending a sinister air to his plans. 

Nothing but darkened rooms greeted them below accentuating the solitary light that shone from the upper landing, drawing Malfoy to it like a moth to a flame. Holding their wands out, they had mounted the stairs without preamble, after all they had a message to deliver. Off to both sides the hallway ran, flanked by doors on both ends. Moving more carefully than when they were downstairs, they had begun the tedious task of hunting for their prey. It was then that the Granger woman had come out to get something, probably a glass of water, not that she made it very far. Malfoy issued a body bind on her before advancing gleefully to make known his intentions. She wasn't too receptive, unsurprisingly. Avada Kedavra. BAM! She was gone. The flash of emerald green light that accompanied the curse brought out Granger's father, who stood in his bedroom doorway wide-eyed in shock, when he too was granted the curse at Malfoy's wand. Two down, one remains. Turning I followed as Malfoy moved to the door at the other end of the hall and taking a leaf out of his beloved lord and master, blew the door off its hinges. Finding Miss Granger huddled under the covers like that was curious, after all she was a Gryffindor, shouldn't she be waiting with wand drawn...ready to take on any assailant? 

_Delivery of the message...Malfoy....that is all,_ my mind chanted. Malfoy had other ideas as usual, a delivery of his own making. He couldn't just let the death of her parents be enough, the deaths that were intended to break her and make her fail, no he had to humiliate her as well. Drawing her out the way he did and taking advantage of the shocked state she was in was classic Malfoy. Toying with her baser instincts, Malfoy weakened her somewhat flaunted resolve, then and only then did he disclose our message...no one is immune to the Dark Lord...punctuating it with his wand in her back. 

I had had enough. Never let it be said that the student shall always surpass the master. Malfoy was the perpetual student, whereas I am the master. Claiming my right to partake in the fun I put a stop to Malfoy, lest he should forget himself and end Miss Granger's life. Removing his wand, I tucked Miss Granger into my arms and proceeded to perpetuate the ruse of depravity that Malfoy had begun. Twining her hand in mine I had taken to caress her, indulging Malfoy I know, but buying time for me to salvage what I could from the situation at hand. How was I to know that I would be affected any different than I had before on past excursions of similar circumstance. Holding her the way I did sparked something inside of me, something that has to be held in check...having no use for such fanciful feelings. Yet she had felt right in my lap, so right that I nearly let my self control slip. Yes I enjoyed what I did, but I did it to save her, didn't I? 

I had to get out of there, but I couldn't just leave her, knowing Malfoy would continue where I left off. That's why I took her, to protect her, until she could protect herself. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

**A/N: Wow! I was really surprised by the response I received from the first chapter. Thank you to everyone that has reviewed!!!! The song is Enter Sandman, davinspeak(), thank you for correcting me on that. I will try to make the correction in the title as well, thanks for the heads up.**  



	3. Voices

**Voices  
By Lady Snape  
**

  


disclaimer: I own nothing. The characters from Harry Potter and the universe from which they are derived belong to J.K. Rowling. I just am taking them out to play. The song "Enter the Sandman" is by Metallica.  


Sleep with one eye open  
gripping your pillow tight,  


Enter Sandman....Metallica  


Severus Snape, former Deatheater...current turncoat and spy for the side of supposed good, sat appalled at the sight of his sniveling student in front of him. He had worked hard to reach a point in his life where the atrocities that he bears witness to, almost daily, had little if any affect on him. He'd be damned if he would start now. 

Having been yanked down unexpectedly, Snape re-situated himself so that he was sitting, crouching really...ready to spring upwards if the need warranted it with his elbows propped on his bent knees. Still adorned in his Deatheater robes and mask, he waited silently as he eyed Miss Granger, noting when her rocking, heaving motions began to settle down. She smelled awful, covered in vomit as she was...he wrinkled his nose at the pungent odor that wafted towards him. Reaching into his robes he withdrew a handkerchief, along with his wand...covering his nose, he cast a cleansing charm over her, removing most of the foul mess from her person. Unfortunately a cleansing charm is not as effective as actually taking a bath, he noted, wincing with disgust at the remnants of filth that remained. On the other hand the odor had decreased sufficiently for him to remove the handkerchief from his face. Putting the handkerchief back in his pocket his nostrils flared reflexively as though trying to expel any lingering stench. 

Glancing about warily, Severus stood up yanking Hermione to her feet as he growled, "Let's go." He knew the forest well enough to know not to linger too long in any one place, unless he wanted to remain a permanent occupant of its haunted boughs. The Forest of the Dead was aptly named, luring innocents into its domain and lulling them to complacency by day; by night the forest re-arranged itself confusing weary travelers to wander forever lost and be feasted upon by its inhabitants. A clever defense charm created by one of his ancestors to keep interlopers at bay. Pulling her closer to him, he trudged onward keeping himself alert to the slightest noise. 

Grief in many ways acted upon the soul like the "Imperious" curse worked on the mind. Numb and filled with shame, Hermione followed her professor without resistance. Barely able to acknowledge anything more than his movement next to her as she struggled with the ache of loss that was threatening to consume her. Her eyes burned from a host of yet unshed tears that she was unable to unleash. 

Listlessly she followed her professor for what seemed like eons, time seemingly had stood still. Soon she found herself picking her way through a grove of trees that had begun to thin, allowing beams of moonlight to slice through like cool daggers. Clutching her gown tighter, she pulled her arms across her front as she shivered from a feeling unconnected to the chill in the air. With a backwards glance, Hermione stumbled in her professor's wake as they exited the forest, she desperately searched the barren patch of trees as she shook off the feeling of someone's cold fingers that she had felt run down her back. 

After coursing through a bracken strewn forest the cool soft grass that greeted her feet sent a shock through her system. Passing out of the trees, they had entered a magnificent park dotted with marble sculptures that loomed up out of the darkness. Hermione tried to study the figures in passing, but found that elegant bodies were each topped with distorted heads or not topped at all. Disturbed by such ghastly sights, she wondered what could have caused such hideous disfiguration. She turned her head from one side to the other as she continued to follow Professor Snape. Her professor wound a path through the cultivated garden of marble and bush gracefully, the slight crunch of gravel the only indication of his passage. 

Soon they had crossed the expansive garden, coming to a halt in front of a enormous iron portcullis. Stepping back Hermione glanced up in awe. The gate stood at least fifty feet high set within obsidian stones that shimmered in the moonlight. To either side of the opening, the wall ran seamlessly with the earth as though it was a part of it. Waiting next to her teacher, Hermione watched as with a wave of his hand the giant gate rose silently. 

Without waiting for her, Severus entered through the gaping arch headed for the great double doors offering entrance to a castle, that of which would make Hogwarts look like a guest cottage. Made of the same shimmering obsidian stone, the castle arced and twisted in a multitude of turreted towers and arches. For the first time during the night, he began to relax as he removed the mask that he still wore. Reaching inside of his robes he withdrew a crystal flask (shaped like a balloon with a wide mouth), he poured the essence of his vizard, secreting it away once again inside his robes. 

Snapping his fingers once brought forth a series of pops. Clad in simple black linen pillowcases each monogrammed with a silver SS, Severus summoned his house elves. Severus instructed them curtly, "I will be having company. Prepare the Red Suite...we will dine at the usual hour in the parlor. That is all." With a crack like lightning, the elves were gone, leaving their master to study his now trembling charge. 

Hermione stood fascinated in the middle of what appeared to be an entrance hall. In circular fashion the walls curved around and up into the pitch blackness that hovered overhead. Shimmering pearlescent shapes drifted through the inky shadows above her, indicating that this castle too was haunted like Hogwarts. Unlike Hogwart's ghosts, she worried that these bodiless entities were not of the friendly sort. The floor, mercurial in appearance, swirled where her feet touched it giving her the sensation of walking on water. Returning her gaze back to her professor, she barely glimpsed a crystal globe filled with a swirling iridescent black substance before it was hidden amongst the folds of his robes. Raising her eyes to his pale face, with belated clarity she realized that he had removed his disguise, giving her full view of the harsh lines and cold demeanor she had been hitherto shielded from. She finally understood what Harry felt. Harry Potter, a.k.a. The Boy Who Lived, The Savior of the Wizarding World and the recipient of Snape's least favourite student award, for reason's known only to Snape had received the brunt of his wrath throughout Harry's and Hermione's six years at Hogwarts. Standing there in her torn nightgown, Hermione felt none-the-less naked under her Potions professor's scrutiny. 

Severus eyed her with disdain. Her nightdress barely covered her, having been ripped by the many brambles they had passed through and damp from the night air, left very little hidden to the conscious observer. Unconsciously, images of what he could do the silky smooth skin that peeked from the many tears, passed through his mind. Sneering at her (more-so at his own thoughts) he turned away from her, motioning for Hermione to follow. 

Deeper into the main Hall, a door inlaid with ivory swung open when Snape reached it. Passing over the threshold, he had to stop when a popping sound preceded an elf's arrival in front of him. He scowled at the trembling elf standing before him. "Notty...placement!" he hissed, "I do not enjoy having you pop in nearly on top of me!" 

"I's sorry master, Notty will remember." Notty the house elf bowed humbly as he said this. Without standing up again, Notty spoke in a hushed voice, "Master Snape sir, the Lady's room is ready, sir. Notty has provided garments as you have ordered as well." The elf bowed even lower, if possible, than before...his nose bending against the ground as he waited to be dismissed. 

"Very well, off with you." Severus replied curtly with a wave of his hand. 

Returning his attention back to Miss Granger, he found her slouched against the wall looking worse for wear. Taking her arm, he pulled her up off the wall causing her to stumble against him. He held her slight form up as he supported her, with one arm wrapped around her waist and the other tucked close still gripping her arm, he cradled her against his body. Her head had fallen forward against his chest triggering his darker cravings, cravings he had denied himself in atonement for past deeds. His grip tightened momentarily in response to his traitorous thoughts, before taking his hand from her arm to reach under Hermione's rear, he hoisted her up over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes. He shifted her carefully as he turned towards the Grand stairway, trying to ignore the battle of voices raging in his mind. 

_Mmmmm....a delectable treat,_ the first voice echoed sounding much like Voldemort's. _Ah, but she is a child still,_ the other replied in Dumbledore's familiar tone. _Not so much a child as a young woman...alone in the world._ The Voldemort voice rejoined. _Alone in the world...yes...you must see to it that she is protected._ Sagely the Dumbledore voice responded emphatically. _Protected? Of course you can protect her, make her yours...then no one would harm her. Who would be fool enough to cross you...She could be yours...._ Voldemort's hiss trailed off as Severus reached the landing of the third floor. 

He had carried her up two flights of stairs and down various passages. Paintings of his forbears eyeing him suspiciously as he passed. Finally reaching a painting of a Chinese red dragon he stopped and murmured the password, "Red worm," waiting as the painting shifted to reveal access to a suite of burgundy red rooms. Crossing over the entryway, Severus made for the ebony four poster, thankful that the house elves had turned down the red damask coverlet. 

With his hand supporting her upper body, he gently laid her down amongst the goose down pillows. Gazing down at her he fought the urge to do as the "voice of Voldemort" tempted him to do. Reaching for the coverlet and bringing it up to cover her like a shield, his fingers trailed over her now covered body as if of their own volition. Severus felt the covers shift, he snapped his hand back as if it was burned, looking sharply towards Hermione's face to see if she had awoken. He was relieved to see that she had merely shifted and turned to her side, mumbling incoherently as she gripped her pillow. Curling his hands in his own robes he pulled them closed as he turned, eyes hooded with contempt, he exited the suite. 

**A/N: Thank you for all the reviews, I am really surprised and pleased that you are enjoying this so far. **

  



	4. First Step

First Step  
By Lady Snape  


  


**disclaimer: I own nothing. The characters from Harry Potter and the universe from which they are derived belong to J.K. Rowling. I just am taking them out to play. The song "Enter the Sandman" is by Metallica.**  
  
  
_With a crack like lightning, the elves were gone, leaving their master to study his now trembling charge.... Standing there in her torn nightgown, Hermione felt none-the-less naked under her Potions professor's scrutiny.  
_  
  
  
The departure of the house elves ignited a rush of sensations in Hermione, without realizing it she shook with the force of it. Through a haze she caught the motion of her teacher gesturing her to follow him, numbly she did. Her vision began to blur as she tried to focus on her potions professor's retreating back, momentarily seeing silvery blond hair where black should be. Tightly shutting her eyes her mind screamed, "No!! It can't be!!" before opening them to stare at the man with black hair ahead of her. A bit lightheaded and feeling like she was moving through water, she was barely able to concentrate on the rippling of his cloak as it billowed in his wake. Slowly she followed him down the length of the hall, just managing to catch herself, stopping just in time to tread on the edge of his robes. Shuffling backwards, she felt her energy draining away from her, finding solace and support from uncannily warm stone wall. Fighting a losing battle against her body's need for rest, Hermione leaned against the wall as snippet's of conversation slipped past her ears.   
  
  
"Notty...placement..." Professor Snape hissed at some unseen elf, blocked by her teachers imposing presence. "I's sorry master, Notty will remember." She heard a house elf murmur, then in a hushed voice, "Master Snape sir, the Lady's room is ready, sir. Notty has provided garments as you have ordered as well." A room...oh yes please Hermione thought briefly as her body won the fight, passing out against the stones without nary another thought.  
  
  
As in a dream, Hermione felt herself floating in a cloud of aromatic spices. Shifting and swaying her body hung limply over something hard that she couldn't quite make out. She felt so tired, she didn't have the will to fight anymore...her parents were dead.  
  
  
Through a haze Hermione saw a snatched of green light, pulsating with each beat of thunder. She wasn't sure what was happening, she only knew that she needed to hide, needed to get away...before it was too late. She tried to bury herself deep in the blankets...pulling them close. Whipcrack! Another flash and her blankets were gone, in their place, clawing knarled branches were cradling her, tearing at her. Hermione struggled to free herself...throwing herself down on her stomach, she crawled wide-eyed screaming..."Stop...No...Please" The wooden fingertips dug into her carving huge gouges down her back...struggling, she managed to escape, running straight into the arms of a masked specter. "AAAAAhhhh!" she shrieked, struggling to remove herself from his grasp, seeing only the sleight grey eyes peering down at her as a voice crowed..."Ah she likes the dark...".  
  
  
A shriek ripped through her sleep, gurgling from her tightly clamped lips, jolting her awake. Dazed and sticky with a sheen of sweat covering her, Hermione woke to find herself tangled amongst soft satin sheets, a comforter dangling off the end of the bed. Sitting up, she looked around slowly, trying to figure out where she was. Through the dim light from floating candles...she was able to make out that she was in a rather decadent bedroom. Shades of red complemented each of the furnishings throughout the room. A fine ebony wardrobe was nestled in one corner of the room, inlaid with padauk dragon designs. Coupled with the wardrobe, a claw footed secretary held dominance near a picture window while a pair of nightstands stood guard beside the bed.  
  
  
Sliding her feet from the mass of sheets, she slid herself off the side of the bed landing on a thick Egyptian rug. Taking a small step, Hermione sighed in relief that she had more strength than she felt and made her way to a door that she had spied next to the wardrobe, hoping it was a bathroom. Grasping the handle she pulled the heavy door gingerly, opening it to reveal indeed a bathroom, stocked with everything she could possibly need or want. Thankful that she wouldn't need to find her unlikely benefactor just yet, Hermione dived into the task of ridding herself of the muck that she saw for the first time in the beveled mirror that took up one corner of the room.  
  
  
The image staring back at her shocked her. Standing in her place a wraith of a girl stood, bloodshot eyes stood out from the dark circles streaked with dirty tear tracks. Her hair lay in clumps about her face, matted with vomit and dirt from earlier. Her hand came to her face, gingerly tracing her tear stained cheeks, moving along the length of her neck to stop amid the tattered remains of her nightgown. Following the path of her hand with her eyes in the mirror, Hermione sneered in disgust at her image.  
  
  
"Fool! You bloody fool!" she hissed vehemently, "How could you let him do this to you? To your parents?!" She raved at the image, slumping forward against the sink she whispered dejectedly, "Why did you have to like it when he touched you? What is wrong with you...me?" Hermione muttered as she slid down onto the warm floor, her head in her hands.  
  
  
Some time later Hermione made for the tub, filling it nearly to the top with hot water, she climbed in submersing herself with an audible sigh. Mechanically she washed herself, diligently scrubbing until she felt satisfied that any traces of the previous evening was removed from her. Leaning back into the water, Hermione pondered her situation. She was supposedly Snape's 'toy'. Not exactly sure about what was going to happen, she sighed as she stood up and grabbed a towel, slowly drying herself. Not wanting Dumbledore to know how she reacted to the Death Eaters, Hermione shrugged as she left the bathroom hoping to tell Snape, make him understand her need to keep the events hidden long enough to make sense of what happened for herself.  
  
  
Going straight the wardrobe, Hermione flung it open in search of clothes, remembering what the elf had said, she found some outdated robes oddly still fresh and apparently in her size. In the tray next to the hanging robes she found matching undergarments in the same era as the robes. Frowning she pulled out a set and proceeded to put them on, a sweet lace corset and silk bloomers in cream tones. Going through the robes she found a nice fitted set in burgundy velvet, smiling she took them as slid them over her head pulling them down into place. Checking to see that all the ties and clasps were in place, Hermione took a last look in the mirror before she steeled herself and left in search of her professor.   
  
  
Closing the bedroom door behind her, Hermione looked down the hallway in both directions not sure which way to go. Frowning she turned to her right and wandered down the hall, noticing the paintings as she went. Each glowered as she passed, ignoring them she continued winding down the various hallways until she found a set of stairs. Gathering a bit of hope she proceeded to follow them down until she found herself back in the main Hall that she remembered from the night before. Relief seeped into her as she moved into the Hall, looking down its length she silently groaned at the enormity of it all. Lined with doors on either of its side, Hermione resigned herself to having to look into each of the rooms in search of her professor.  
  
  
_Where the bloody hell is he?_ Hermione thought in frustration. Ready to give up after finding nothing but sheet wrapped furniture in each of the rooms so far, each suffocating in its stale unused condition, Hermione decided to opened a final door in a last ditched effort to find Professor Snape. Looking into the newly revealed room, she walked into what appeared to be a large parlor that was not cloistered by ghostly white sheets or musty dead air. Moving further into the center of the room, she was able to survey her new surroundings, noting the glow of a roaring fire in the marble fireplace. Lining the walls to either side of the door enormous bookcases, sagged under the weight of various wizarding books. Comforted by the sight of so many books, Hermione moved closer to better inspect them. Carefully circumventing the brocade upholstered furniture, she came up to one of the bookcases where she found many tomes detailing areas of the dark arts, forbidden to the students at Hogwarts as well as most of the wizarding world. Her eyes lit at the possibilities of knowledge before her, without a second thought Hermione grabbed a random book, and settling down onto her knees, she made herself comfortable as she became absorbed in her new found treasure.  
  
  
Watching her, Severus held himself still, melding into the shadows as she entered the parlor. He wasn't ready for her yet, instead he chose to watch, he was good at that, he was a spy after all. His eyes glittered in appreciation as she went to his collection of books, warming at the connection they shared, their common thirst for knowledge. With relief he noticed that she had managed to clean herself, that in itself was a step in healing the trauma that had occurred. _ Healing it or burying it, its all the same isn't it?_ He sneered in contempt at the thought. _No matter, she was his for now,_ Snape let a smile steal across his lips at the memory of his conversation with his Superior, at least that is what he and Dumbledore had agreed upon in light of how the events of last night played out.  
  
  
As he always did, he reported to Dumbledore what had happened to Hermione, with a show of regret he informed him of his current possession of her in the eyes of Malfoy. Knowing Malfoy to be the adoring sycophant that he is, Snape made it clear to Dumbledore that Voldemort most assuredly knew of Miss Granger's current status and whereabouts as well. Inwardly he had exulted as he listened to the old man request him to keep up the pretense until they could form a plan to remove her without giving away his status as it was, a spy for the light. With feigned disgust he 'grudgingly' excepted his orders, sneering as he told the fool that he would take care of Miss Granger, explaining everything to her tender sensibilities. _Yes, he would take care of everything...._  
  


------------------------------------- Author's Notes ----------------------------------------

Thank you to those who have taken the time to review.

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